Dragon's Breath
by SenseiDangerMouse
Summary: An asylum escape, a widdower, and a whole new war. Set ten years after the 100 Year War, Azula, Zuko, and the rest of the gang battle love against life. Avatar is property of Viacom, Nick, and Bryke. M for darkness and lemons.
1. Imprisoned

**HELLO! My very first fanfiction upload... Scary O.o ****Mostly, I hope everyone likes it! Avatar is a big part of my life so I hope you enjoy!**

**~Sensei**

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Imprisoned<strong>

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><p><strong>EIGHT YEARS AFTER THE WAR<strong>

The prisoner counted her time in variously labeled increments of unconsciousness.

The days- or nights, she wasn't able to tell- were always quite long and sunless. With no windows or visible doors in the room the time spent awake felt like unending eternities, only ever brought to a close by the shutting of her eyes.

Without the ability to tell the time, the prisoner was never sure when Sleeping was appropriate. She couldn't remember the feeling, the feeling she used to get when the Sun went away; it was like the blindness reached after a candle flickers out in a dark room, except deep in the pit of her heart. But she couldn't call that feeling back from the past, only could she remember once feeling it.

Down here, below the ground in a metal box, the sun was always away, and that candle was always out.

She had spent many months in the beginnings of her imprisonment creating titles for her time spent dormant.

Her longest spell of sleep was only surmountable by the fact that it was the longest uninteruppted stretch of time in the prisoner's daily agenda. She assumed her keepers had allotted this period specifically _for _sleep, as though she didn't do enough of that throughout the day. She very simply called this Sleep, and tried as hard as she possibly could to avoid any sort of dreaming while the act transpired.

After a long while of Sleep, she was roughly shaken awake with a metal rod. It prodded into her ribs with unending and painful precision until she was fully awake. Once alertness was ascertained, the large metal cage that rapped around her mouth was removed, at great risk to those burdened with the task of keeping her.

She would gulp in air as though she had just resurfaced from a great depth, and, head down, lap from the pale of fresh water that was presented for her consumption. A meal of gray mush was pushed under her nose next; she tore into it daily with her teeth, pretending she was stripping flesh from a dead animal.

The cage went back on, and her eyelids got heavy, beginning her shortest juncture of rest, the After Food Snooze. This lasted only a few hours from what she could tell, because she was awakened not by persistent jabs, but by hunger.

Before the keepers allowed her to eat again her chains were fully unlatched, the metal mask removed. The locks clicked and huffed with the demeanor of an angry dragon as they released, and she watched through her eyes like faraway windows as she was lifted from under her arms onto feet like jelly. With escorts surrounding her- guards from all nations come together to keep this one prisoner contained- she was shuffled out off the hunched position she remained in all throughout the day and night, and walked steadily in a circle for a very short while.

The time she was appropriated for this sullen form of exercise was nowhere near enough, as far as the prisoner cared. Her former training regiment had once been so strict that her Walking-Around seemed a mockery of it.

The keepers kept their hands so tight around her arms. She hated it, the grip they used. She was no longer strong enough to break it, and her spirit was buried so deeply the prisoner wouldn't try if she could. Not like in the beginning, when she could thrash and scream and fight the grip they had around her arms. Now she only ever slept, ate, and stared blankly into nothing.

Once her Walk-Around was through they fed her once more, and she drowsed again; surely they put something in the gray mush to make her so tired... But no, she did not sleep now. She silently pondered, her breath mechanically raspy when filtered through the metal cage that belted around the back of her head. There were small holes in the front to allow her continuous respiration, but otherwise it was crushed to her face, disallowing any resistance from the dangerous, toothy area.

This hazy, barely-conscious state was referred to by the prisoner as the Mid Afterday Nap. It stretched however long it needed to, and often times melded back into Sleep, thus continuing in the cycle of her daily life.

Life spent bound by metal snakes, twisted around her wrists, ankles, neck and face. Two black metal posts were on her either side; from them chains sprung and clasped to big, round metal gloves that enclosed her hands. The prisoner's ankles were clamped to the ground in similar confines. There was a heavy collar around her neck with chains sprouting to the floor in five places around it.

Her constant and only position was to crouch on her knees, with arms spreadeagled and pulled away from her body, leaving her dull heartbeat vulnerable to any sort of attack. Her spine was curved in an ache of a hunch; there was no other way to perch, covered in limiting tethers as she was.

All the devices set in place had two functions, firstly restrain the prisoner from damaging her had seemed to be priority when she had first arrived in the asylum, the safety of those who took care of her.

Secondly, if ever she attempted an escape, her abilities would be reversed and thus thwarted; any heat she could conjure would be trapped inside the limb-cages, burning her own fingers and crisping her own flesh.

Even now she crouched in a basin filled with an amount of water, just enough to annoy the girl constantly. Any electricity she could bring into the world would fill the pool and be shot back into her body before she could hurt anyone else.

And the prisoner only knew these things because, of course, in the beginning she had tried.

Tried to melt the chains, to breathe her flame at the guards. The scars on her knees were the worst, the ugliest. She regretted those most. Her legs used to be so beautiful. Her unfocused eyes narrowed now, at the thought of her self-ruining, her unfixable idiocy. She would never go to the beach again-

-if ever she were to leave her cell in the first place. And from what she could tell now, crouching in a puddle and covered in shackles, the odds did not seem to be tipping in her favor.

If she could leave her cell in the first place, she definitely wouldn't go to the beach, of all places. No, she would firstly run, run as quickly she ever could on her jelly-legs. Run until the asylum was nothing but a bad memory. Go and go until she could see the sun and let its power flow through her once more.

The tired murky eyes of the prisoner dilated, first wide then small, and her lip twitched inside the metal mask in the ghostly hint of a smirk.

The asylum was on an island, after all. Maybe a trip to the beach would be necessary, if she were to actually reach what she desired:

Freedom. The freedom she required to seek revenge for the injustice she had been dealt so many years ago.

The smirk appeared fully now, and beneath the cage, it looked far more like the snarl of a feral beast, preparing to rip flesh from bone with bare teeth.

The prisoner's thoughts twirled evilly like this for some time, her eyelids drooping with the exhaustion of her Mid Afterday Nap. She hadn't managed to think up a very original or interesting plan for decimating her enemies in some time, but of course there wasn't much to consider when one was so heavily medicated.

The cell's walls were paneled and copper colored, with big ugly bolts at the corners of each metal slab. Many of them overlapped, and the prisoner assumed this must be what patched clothing looked like.

Of course, she had never worn anything less then perfect, silken uniforms. Even now she was dressed in royal apparel, her matted hair in a tattered topknot. Her crimson robes were doused with the water she knelt in, and the heavy mantle on her shoulders was stained with the tasteless gruel she consumed every day.

In character, she had never been anything less than perfect, either. Only once had she truly slipped up, aside from the little things, the small errors that irked her eternally, ghosted along in her mind forever. No, only one blunder was outwardly visible, and she payed for it every single day of her life.

She had been defeated. Only once in her whole life, but it was enough to land her in a metal box, far beneath the surface of the earth.

She sighed now, the sound gravelly and bold in the silence. She shifted her knee; her joints ached often due to the water. The splashing sound was resonant, too. Her eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness of the cell, and she watched the liquid ringlets travel away from her, and finally meet the wall of the basin.

Goose-skin raised the hairs on her arms beneath the royal silk. There was something to be said about how sinister this loneliness was, how the quiet was nightmarish and the darkness sneaky.

Silence was the embodiment of life in a cell. It surrounded her with isolation, and dropped her deep into desolate, personless land. Never before her imprisonment had the girl felt quite so alone.

She splashed again, to fill the air with something other than her contemplation.

There was an intake of breath behind her. The prisoner froze, ears pricking, eyes widening, clammy fists clenching.

"Don't move." a male voice whispered from behind her, where the door to the cell was located. She swallowed hard, waiting, wondering. What would a guard want at this hour? The Mid Afterday Nap oftentimes fused with Sleep, and they never bothered her when she slept.

The man took four steps, and the clamor reverberated throughout the cell for a moment after he had finished walking. He was directly behind the prisoner now, his toes probably at the little wall that kept the water in its basin.

"Don't say a word. Don't breathe," he said.

Although she did not stop breathing, her respiration became far shallower, and she waited for this odd apparition to show himself properly. She was suddenly tempted to call him a coward, to dare the man to show his face. But no, she wouldn't do that. She never spoke, anyways, unless to ask what the date was.

After the longest of long moments, the man breathed deeply, and the prisoner heard his knees crack, as though he was kneeling.

"I haven't much time." the voice murmured. "Know, Princess, that your supporters still surround you. I am loyal only to you, the True Heir to the throne. I will see to it that you are freed."

Stunned even further into her hush, she swallowed, eyes wide, pupils narrow. The prisoner remained mute until the noises of the faceless man backing away and leaving the cell were long gone. Finally in solitude again, she let go a deep breath she hadn't been aware of holding, and let the medication they laced into her meals activate. Her eyes drooped, and her head bobbed downward with confused, distrustful unconsciousness.

When the prisoner's dreary eyes focused into alertness, it was a simple task to convince herself that the previous evenings events had been nothing but a dream. Annoyed momentarily that she had allowed herself such a foolhardy release, she began to ponder some way to punish herself.

Dreams were a useless circumstance that infected the girl's rest time. There was no point to it; once before she had heard dreams described as an expression of hope. The girl had no use for hope, she never had. Hope made people blind and ambitious; wasn't it better to have a plan for ascension to acheivement? The prisoner had once been great and powerful, no thanks to hope, no thanks to anything besides her own brilliant mind.

The girl had never had hope, nor should anyone else have.

The voice had been part of a frail begging for freedom, and it was a despicable idea that anyone else should escort her to liberty. No, if the prisoner ever was to be discharged from the asylum, it would be by her own hands.

The day passed fairly quickly and normally. The formerly royal inmate drowsed throughout, only truly reaching cognizance as the mouth-cage was buckled back into place. The guard securing the belt was pulling it far too tightly; she felt as though the leather strap was going to cut into her cheek if he went any tighter.

She made a guttural sound of annoyance at the back her throat, refusing to speak civilly with those who constantly restrained her.

The keeper said nothing, gave one more mighty tug on the strap, buckled it and left. The annoyed noise surfaced again as the cell door slammed shut. The prisoner couldn't twitch her face without some part of the leather strap digging into her flesh; she found it quite irritating. It had been many years since the guards had been outright mean to the girl. Many of them had released their vendetta against her years ago, maintaining a stoic and professional attitude while on the job.

But the belt was crushing her ears to her skull, the metal cuff binding her lips into a hard line, the cartilage of her nose into a numb, squashed lump.

It was positively irksome.

There was a booming echo, and the prisoners compressed ears focused on the cell door. It was opening, slowly, and for the second time in two nights, the girl noted the late hour of this guards arrival. Perhaps it was someone come to assist with the loosening of her bondage, she thought, pleased.

A male voice cleared its throat.

Through her teeth, the prisoner hissed, recognizing immediately the deep timbre. But no, that had been a dream!

One of two options arose as an explanation. It had been a dream, pitifully begging for escape while at the same time impossibly clairvoyant, or...

Or it hadn't been a dream. It had been true and real and clear as day, and this traitorous guard- or whatever he was- had come to save her. Well, the Ex-Princess would definitely have something to say about that! Her fall from grace had apparently become a laughing matter, if men who claimed to follow the girl also insisted upon saving her.

No. The prisoner would surely rot before she allowed anyone to assist in her departure from the cell.

"Princess." the timbre murmured. "I wish to speak with you."

"Show your face, Traitor." the prisoner croaked, her voice dreadfully lousy with lack of use. It came out as a breathy echo through the mouth cage that so tightly wrapped her face.

The silence held for nearly a minute, and the girl grew impatient.

"... I'm afraid I can't. Not yet, Your Highness." said the man, finally.

"Then you are no servant of mine. You're ban-" she paused, swallowing. "Be off."

"I'm afraid I can't do that either. I will not leave you, Princess. Not until you see the light of day again. Not until your lungs breath pure, clean air. Do you remember what it tastes like, fresh air?"

"Be off I say, Traitor!" cried the former princess, no longer attempting to keep her voice low.

Suddenly, there was stomping outside the cell door, and it was blasted ajar- from what the girl could hear- by three or four ready guards.

"Tohei!" a woman's voice cried. "What are you doing here?"

The deep male voice was facing the door now, and the throat cleared before speaking. "Only loosening the prisoner's mouthguard, Warden. I fear I attached it too tightly when I was in here last. No need for alarm."

"Let me see that." the Warden snapped, stomping further into the cell. She did not hesitate by the sounds of her footsteps, before stepping into the water, and stopping directly behind the girl's back. With one swift movement, the belt was unbuckled.

The prisoner let free a deep breath, blood suddenly flooding back into her face. It was tingling, and she twitched her lips back and forth while feeling returned to them.

Too soon, the belt was latched again; less tightly this time, but tightly enough. The Warden turned from the prisoner, stepping out of the basin of water.

"Alert someone next time, Tohei. You are not to enter this cell without backup and supervision, do you hear me?"

"I hear you, Warden."

Silence fell, and after a moment, they all began to filter out.

The footsteps grew farther and farther away, until the cell door slammed shut behind the Warden, her fellows, and the strange, timbre voiced man. Tohei.

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><p><strong>Review and I won't cry? :')<strong>


	2. Good News

**I got nervous, so I'm putting up chapter 2... Any typo's, tell me, I'll fix em :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Good News<strong>

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><p>There came three small knocks at his office door.<p>

The man looked up from his paperwork, his lips pursing to one side, debating silently whether or not to allow the visitor inside.

The timid sounds came again, and the man sighed.

"Enter."

Four men in red armor bustled inside nervously, before bowing at the waist. The man behind the desk, with a ready quill waiting in his hand above one of his important documents, flicked his wrist. The guards straightened up, but the snap of his wrist had left speckles of ink on his papers. The man pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly.

"Speak." he said in a clipped tone.

"Fire Lord Zuko, news from the Palace Prison."

Zuko looked up. "Well? What is it?"

"Sir, there has been no-"

There were three more knocks from the doorway. The man's neck snapped up, but his eyes melted when he saw her.

"My Lady." the guards all murmured, bowing once more. She waved her hand at them as she entered the room. She had a smile on her usually bland face, and she walked slowly, gracefully... But joyously.

"Mai." Zuko whispered, his heart fluttering nervously in his chest.

She grinned up at him, and gave him one, tiny, infinitely meaningful nod.

A grin split the mans ravaged face, and the worried wrinkles that had formed around his good eye vanished. For once, he looked his age: a young twenty-four years old.

He waved his wrist at the guards, his eyes never leaving his wife's face.

"But, Sir-"

"Go!" he snapped, shaking his head. They all exited rapidly; the speaker looked rather miffed at his Lord's unattentiveness. The news he had been entrusted with was of upmost importance; far more important, he thought, than the sweetness of Lady Mai's kisses.

The guards name was Pao, and he was fifty-four years old. He had been working in the Command Center of the Fire Nation Palace since Azulon's rule. While Pao respected and was wholly loyal to Ozai's son, they often did not see eye to eye on many subjects. While Pao never spoke out his thoughts were usually laced with profanities and better ideas.

He dragged his feet down the hallway now, towards the exit in the east wing. Servents Quarter's were located under the kitchen there, and beneath the Servents Quarters were small metal bunkers the guards slept in. His wife, a severe, squat woman, worked the kitchens throughout the day, as she had for almost as long as Pao had been a Palace Guard.

The man turned sharply into the kitchen, sweat dewing up his forhead. He was nervous, mostly because he had to say something horrible to his wife, but also because the world was no longer a safe place for people loyal to Fire Lord Zuko.

Teya, his wife, was straining water out of a dish of uncooked, bright green vegetables. She looked up at him confusedly.

"Pao? What is it? What's wrong?" she said, all before he had made to the sink. Something had to be wrong... why else would he be here, now? He grabbed her shoulders, and pressed his forhead to hers.

"Teya, listen to me. We have to get out of here! Out of the Fire Nation, if we can!"

"What? Pao, what are you talking about?"

"Sshh!" he hissed. "It's not safe here anymore! Word came in from the Palace Prison that there was been no contact with Whale Tail Asylum in days! You know what this means!"

"Azula." Teya whispered, eyes wide. "She can't have-"

"Not on her own! Someone had to help her, and I'm guessing whoever it was didn't act alone. An army is brewing, Wife! I can feel it; we must leave, immediately!"

Silence filled the air between the old couple, Teya's eyes searching blankly for another answer. There was none. The War had left scars much too deep; even Azula's name sent chills down her spine. Her husband was right.

"We are not safe here." she murmured brokenly. "We must leave."

Pao nodded urgently, although he knew why she looked so low. The Palace was the only home the pair had ever known. They had never left the country, and only very rarely had they left the Palace Plaza. It's where they had met. Where they had gotten married. It's where the had raised their son, and where the young man had died in a kitchen incident years and years before. The Palace is where they greived, where they grew.

A tear dripped down Teya's face, and she quietly thanked the spirits that the kitchen was empty.

"I will meet you at the front gate at dusk," Pao said, kissing the top of her head. She let her gaze linger on his face for as long as he was there, and even after he was gone, she stared at the door as long as she could.

The old two continued through the day with shaky knees, jumping at the slightest provocation. The next morning rumors spread like wild fire, everyone contemplating reasons why the Palace's most loyal workers had suddenly vanished. No one was sure.

No one was sure until Whale Tail Asylum finally reported back to the Palace Command Center, confirming an old couple's suspicions, and frenzying the entire Royal community.

"She _what?" _Zuko cried, knocking things from his desk to the floor.

"Princess Azula... She seems to have gone missing, Your Highness."

"Gone _missing? GONE MISSING? _Are you telling me an entire asylum full of the best benders, fighters, and care takers seem to have _misplaced her?" _he screamed, stamping his foot.

"Well, Sir-"

"How could she have possibly _gone missing?" _he said. Of course she wasn't just _missing. _She had very obviously escaped, but the Fire Lord dare not say it. If she 'went missing' or 'got captured' his sister would seem less threatening. Less vengeful. The only reason he bothered with hasseling the messenger, a young guard who was bowed so low his forhead was pressed into the carpet, was because Zuko was honestly and rightfully terrified.

The scar on his chest was hurting. He knew it was all in his head; the lightning burn was long since healed. But Azula wasn't in her cell, and that made her seem oddly close. Like she could be right outside the office door, like she could be right behind him-

Zuko started pacing, peering over his shoulder every few moments. The young guard backed away fearfully, while Zuko prowled on, his mind racing.

A white hot rage blinding him, he toppled a bookshelf, and afterwords he stood, breathing heavily and staring at the damage.

"Zuko?" A woman whispered at the door, sounding frightened. His neck snapped up, golden eyes deranged. Mai was in the doorway, her eyebrow knit. It took Zuko a moment to realize she didn't know what was wrong.

"Mai." he said breathlessly. She was suddenly a safe harbor. An unknowing, stressless island, and he gladly swam across a sea of lava to wash up on her shore.

He pulled his wife into a tight, reckless hug, inhaling her cherry perfume like he needed it to survive. Without it he would surely drown under piles of paperwork and mountains of anxiety.

He couldn't tell her about his sister. He couldn't bare putting that stress on her tiny shoulders, because he had just found out days before that his beloved wife was finally carrying the child they had been trying for for almost two years. And this time Zuko was going to make sure she didn't lose it. Not like the others.

Every miscarriage was a lash on Zuko's back and a needle in Mai's heart. But, no. This time was different. They would make it.

And Azula was going to be caught and put straight back in her cell. No, worse. Azula was going to be caught and put to death so nothing like this ever happened again.

Already feeling slightly better, he brushed off the bookcase as an accident, took her arm, and began strolling down the corridor. As he passed, he politely told a servant to attend to the mess in his office.

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><p>How had he done it? How had he kept it from her all this long time? Three long weeks passed while the Command Center had frantically searched for the renegade Princess. Mai was still in the dark, although oftentimes the Fire Lord caught her searching his face. She knew something was wrong, but instead of asking what it could possibly be, she stared into the planes of his visage, guilting and emptying the man.<p>

But he wouldn't tell. His beloved was officially ten weeks, and a tiny bulge was forming on her belly. When she wasn't suspiciously glaring, the pair were ecstatic. It was a sullen thing that they still hadn't told anyone but Uncle, but it was just a precaution.

Zuko was starting to think it was silly. This baby was different. It was going to make it, he was sure. His son- as he was sure it was a boy- was a strong young man already. A fighter. He was going to survive.

Zuko was sure. All the others, all four of the heartbreaking what-if babies had gone so much earlier than this. And as each week passed, more and more hope filled him, and a smaller quieter amount entered Mai, too, even though she wouldn't say so.

No word on Azula. Everyone involved had decided that she had been captured by some ex-medic who used to live in the southern Earth Kingdom colonies who had gone missing the same day she had. Some assumed she was dead, but Zuko wouldn't believe it until her head was on a pike outside the Palace. No, Zuko knew that she had broken herself out somehow, and that she was out there somewhere plotting some horrible thing.

"Are you ready?" Mai whispered, kissing the hollow under his jaw. Zuko blinked, smiling timidly and wrapping his arm around her waist.

"Ready for what?"

She chuffed, and pulled back, looking at him with annoyance. Her eyes watched his face very seriously, like she was trying to dig into his mind through his eyes.

Quickly, he looked down, trying to remember what he should have been getting ready for while he had lounged across the bed lazily.

Mai sighed, slumping slightly. "Our walk, Babe. You said this morning we could go on a walk before bed." she said emotionlessly.

_Oooh. _"Oh! Of course. Let me get dressed." He began getting up, but Mai pushed him back down.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," she warned. Zuko smiled fleetingly, and stuggled past her and onto his feet.

"I want to! I really do. I promise."

She looked at him, annoyed, before rolling her eyes and smiling. "Lets go then. Before I change my mind."

It took ten full minutes to dress in his royal apparell, but when he was through and his hair tied up, he looked dashing and red.

"How would you feel if I grew a mustache?" he asked, taking Mai's arm in his. They walked at a steady and slow pace to the entrance.

The guards there unwillingly let the Fire Lord and Lady pass through, and watched them worriedly all the way down the road, before they turned and disappeared from sight, lost deeply in conversation. The moon was not out, so the only light on the street that night was the occasional fire-glow inside homes they passed.

Mai peered at the house she used to live in as they passed it, and was so glad she had left it to live with Zuko in the Palace. Her mother had died not long after the war, and Mai was sure it was out of grief for the end of such a righteous movement. Her father, distraught at the death of his wife, hurriedly married again and moved to another rich area, leaving his then seventeen-year-old daughter with two-year-old Tom-Tom.

Mai was unendingly bitter for her father's reluctance to care for his own son, but she took the opportunity to raise Tom-Tom as practice for her own children. Zuko was infinitely devoted to her younger brother and herself; he was the kindest most loving person she knew, aside from his occasional temper-flares.

In the beginning, his temper was worse. His father- his _wretched _father- had left the country in pure ruin. Zuko, whose hands were ultimately tied into paying millions in reperations to the other nation's, was forced to lead a not fully loyal country through years of recession. His forefather's debts ran too deep. It was a house of cards; the War was a war fueled on lies and empty bank vaults called full.

Even then, the Fire Nation was a poor country. Zuko had to be endlessly frugal to scrape by, and every trade or economical move he made to push forward he had to plead for with the other countries. He worked perpetually to seem both merciful and powerful, humble yet still a strong leader for his people. It was hard sometimes to seem like a possible threat while he was begging the Southern Water Tribe for a trading agreement.

Many hated Zuko, still. All those who had lived in the colonies for generations had been uprooted; the population of the Fire Nation inflated to a nearly uncomfortable amount with the return of the coloniels. Assimilating them all to the pure culture of the Motherland was a whole other project that Mai and her husband feared would never work, not in another hundred years.

All the Azula and Ozai supporters were still out there, rebellious and set in their ways. Zuko was, by some, not even considered the true Fire Lord since Azula and their father were still alive. No one could accept that the scarred idealist had won the throne. But Azula had been defeated, very obviously, and as far as Mai cared, that was all that mattered.

Their country in such discord, the whole world picking up the peices Zuko personally placed in the other ruler's hands; maybe it would never get better.

But, as Mai's mother sometimes used to say, if you live through it, it can't be that bad, right?

Many hated Zuko, but Mai on the other hand, was a symbol. An icon of a new world. A new Lady in a flowing white dress, who on their wedding day, vowed that she was not only marrying Zuko, but marrying the entire Fire Nation. She was held to a special and high esteem by the people of her country. In fact, without her, Zuko might have gone under in the early days of fundless struggle.

And even eight years later Zuko's temper blazed like an uncontrollable flame. Sometimes it could get to be too much, and he would overflow like lava from a volcano. And instead of ducking and covering the way she was taught to as a girl by watching her parents fight, (her mother usually evading any sort of retaliation for her idiotic comments by hurrying out of the room) Mai would face the spewing flames of rage and stop Zuko; calm him.

Something about her build made Zuko think she was fragile. When ever she would brave the storm of his fury and he would finally look at her, he would calm right down. It was as though he was afraid of hurting her with his yelling, scared he would damage her pristine flesh by knocking things down.

Mai herself found it silly. She wasn't someone who required pampering, or even sparing from bursts of ferocity. She was a positively tough young woman. But she had a power over Zuko, and using it was not only a perk, but very useful when she wanted to rescue the furniture he tended to destroy.

Mai thought back to weeks before, when Zuko had toppled the bookcase in his office, and realized for the twentieth time that she still didn't know what happened to make him so upset. And even when she tried to get the answer out of him, he would look away...

"Mai?" Zuko said, sounding perplexed from beside her. She looked up, beginning to search his face, and instantly his gaze dropped to the ground.

"What, Zuko?" she asked tiredly.

He cleared his throat and looked at her turned-away face nervously. "There's Former General Yon's house. I just remembered I have to ask him something about... A program his wife suggested."

"A program?"

"Er... Yes. A school thing for... coloniel children. I want to speak with-"

"Go." she snapped coldly. She knew he was lying. And though she was tempted to listen outside Former General Yon's door for the truth, Mai was not that intrusive. Instead, once Zuko had disappeared inside the glowing home, the lady began slowly walking back down the road, face blank, but mind a buzz with annoyance and speculation. She had made it two blocks from the house, and decided to turn back when a chilling voice made her spine straighten in a terrified way.

_"Oh, there comes the Lord_

_Lady on his arm_

_And you see in royal eyes_

_The reflection of their charm_

_And so we bow_

_Bow!_

_BOW!"_

the voice sang. The song, of course, was familiar. It was sung in the lowest level classes of the Fire Nation Academy for Girls- which had long since opened to boys as well- and it was taught to show the proper etiquette when faced with the Fire Lord and any others of the Royal Family.

_"Oh, her Royalty_

_Her delicate smile_

_Her grace, the Lady_

_But she is not! She does beguile_

_A lie, a cheat, a traitor_

_Her grace, the Lady,"_

That was new. The singer must have written that on her own, because no teacher in their right mind would dare call the Fire Lady a traitor.

Mai swallowed.

"Come, Your Majesty. Follow me into the dark. I want a _word." _Azula's most dangerous voice hissed. Everything was suddenly very clear. Azula had escaped her Asylum, and Zuko had kept it from her. Probably to protect the child.

Fury flooded her body.

Zuko must have thought she was so weak if he had kept _this _from her. He must have assumed any bad news he delivered would damage his delicate wife to the point of miscarrying their longest lived child. What else had he hidden?

Spitefully, Mai stomped into the dark alleyway were her worst fear was surely crouching. But when she got there the alley was empty. She turned every which way, searching for her oldest friend in the darkness. Her fingertips grazed the back fence that enclosed the alley, and there was a chuckle from behind her.

Spinning around, Mai gulped. Azula had a palm full of luminescent blue fire, and her face was horrible and waxy and guant. Deep purple rings surrounded her eyes, and her lips were the exact shade of white as the rest of her face.

She looked like a reanimated corpse.

The only thing Mai could place-since the skin was hollow and the hair was cut at odd lengths, and positively ratty looking- were the eyes. The golden cat-lenses were alight as they always were, vengeful and furious and manipulative as ever. They watched Mai with deathly percision, like they always had.

A smile lit the dead face.

"Mai. What a pleasure it is to see you."

Straightening out of a fighting stance, Mai replied, "Likewise. I'm actually surprised to see you here, Azula."

Azula chuckled evilly. "Oh, I'm only passing through. I'm only here to leave a message for my _brother."_

"And what is it? I'll be glad to give it to him-"

"I'm sure you would." She said, a grin splitting her face; the hand with the fire raised threateningly preparing to strike the Fire Lady dead.

"Wait! Wait, Azula, I'm pregnant!"

The calculating eyes narrowed on Mai's hands, which desperately clawed at her slightly swollen belly.

"What a coincedence," she said, smilling again."I don't care!"

Hope drained from Mai's extremities. She suddenly realized how stupid it was, answering Azula's call. She had walked willingly to her death.

"No one will ever respect you." the Fire Lady spat dangerously. "I didn't. I only feared you. That is all you will _ever _be, Azula! A threat, but _never_ a leader!"

Azula's looked into Mai's eyes, amused. "Well, Fire Lady. You should have feared me more."

The familiar words pricked a place of fear in Mai's stomach. From the street, she heard one final noise before Azula dealt one single heated blow all the way down Mai's front.

"Mai?" Zuko called again, confusion unsettling him. Suddenly, from an alley a block away, a blue glow eminated. Fear choked Zuko, and suddenly he was sprinting down the lane. He came skidding to a stop at the entrance, and the air left his lungs.

Mai was on her side, her dress scorched, and flesh peeking through, bright bink and in some places, bubbling.

And then, movement at the fence in the back. A single glance of a pallid face, grinning at him while she hopped over and away. Out of instinct, he blasted a plume of flame at his sisters face; too late. She was gone.

Mai wasn't moving.

He collapsed at his wife's side, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her. Her eyes were closed, but there was no peace in her features. It was not a restful expression. A furious sob racked the Fire Lord, and the neighbors began gathering, shouting confusedly. One voice, female, rose above the others in a shrill scream of terror.

"Lady Mai is dead!"

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><p><strong>Reviews feed the homeless.<strong>


	3. The Cold Blooded Fire

**And so the story begins! :) Thank you everyone for the reviews, it gives me heart and reason to continue :)**

**~Sensei  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: The Cold Blooded Fire<strong>

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><p>It was funny.<p>

Two years. 730 days. 17,520 hours. _1,051,200 minutes._

That was exactly how long it took for a certain Fire Princess to rehabilitate herself; transform her weakened body back into a strong, healthy machine.

You see, it was funny because it had only taken two years to accomplish that, while it took more than double that time to do the initial damage.

In the span of eight long years _(3,160 days; 75,840 hours)_ her skin had hollowed out and turned gaunt. Her muscles had deteriorated into nothing more than skin that hangs from bone. Sharp mind into empty cavern. Fiery heart into ashes in an urn.

And 17,520 hours after her escape, Azula was once again hard-muscled and sharp and vivacious as flame.

Two years for a zombie to come alive. A fighting force to gain numbers and become a respectable team. For a name to sink into legend; horrified reverence. Becoming too taboo for utterance. An era of nothing but hushed whispers and hammering hearts and locked doors at sundown; _fear._

No, no one ever uttered her cursed name. She was too dangerous. Her ears stretched too far and too wide_. _She was in every dark corner of the world, she was the shine in every unsheathed blade, the menace in every whisper. The Cold Blooded Fire stalked every childhood night terror, and every parents worry.

Azula had never had much of a sense of humor, but but the irony came to be too much at times. A Fire Nation Royal living in a swamp? Why wasn't she bitter? A swamp filled with idiots, no less- what a ridiculous prospect that was. So ridiculous, sometimes she just had to laugh.

Tohei really loved it when she laughed. Or when she spoke. Or when she looked up at him expectantly.

The man was in total awe of her, as he had been from the very moment he heard her name.

Azula.

Since he was a boy, the name had rolled off his tongue in the most fascinating way. Sometimes he caught himself murmuring it when he wasn't paying attention; it was a strong name. It promised raw power, an homage to the great Fire Lord before her father. But it also had a slight feminine charm, a whisper of beauty and heavy-lidded eyes.

Tohei had grown up madly in love with all the Royal Family, Azula most definitely included.

As a child, he had never seen much of the Fire Nation, having grown up in an Earth Kingdom colony off the coast of the Windy Sea. All his life he had wanted to serve the motherland; at the shy age of fourteen he he was setting broken bones and bandaging the wounded Fire Nation soldiers that passed through in a continuous stream.

_Invaluable, _his father would say. Tohei was invaluable.

And for the most part, Azula agreed. The man was a useful asset, and she was much to smart to let his obvious admiration go to waste. No, Tohei was wrapped far around her fingers.

Not to say, of course, that manipulation was the only thing between them; it was a hard thing to name. He was a solid, reliable, useful man, and in return for his unlimited devotion, she rewarded him with the highest esteem in her arsenal: a very nearly trusting acquaintanceship.

The very first time Azula saw Tohei- with chains and restraints and knee-deep water containing her- her first impression was that he was very obviously a _man. _His shoulders and chest were broad and strong, and Tohei towered over her with commanding virility.

She had been too distracted then to see his enormous hands wringing together nervously. His carved jaw and straight nose were oddly boyish, innocent and sweet and kind looking. Until, a moment later he stepped into the light and smiled at her with a seductive, evil smile that immediately struck her as alluring.

It took Azula a very long time to realize Tohei had initially seized her as some younger version of her father.

Everything except the voice. Over the years she had come to hate her fathers slithering, creeping, drawling voice. Tohei's was nothing like it. Tohei's voice- as familiar these days as wind rustling through the trees- was deep and friendly and very convincing when it needed to be.

It took four long months of slow selling. Everyday he would come into her cell, sit and talk to her calmly. Sometimes he would unlatch the face cage, so she could talk back. Later came her wrists, ankles, and finally he would free her fully, allowing her to walk with him around the basin of water. Tohei carefully willed Azula to trust him, proving himself endlessly with gifts of solid food and fleeting freedom.

At a certain point, the princess didn't have the heart to explain that she would never trust him, no matter how hard he tried. Instead, it occurred to her to exploit the odd medic for all he was worth, until they got caught and probably killed.

Four months nearly to the day Azula first heard Tohei's voice, she agreed to let him assist in her escape.

It wasn't easy. Not at all. Eight years of walking in small circles with no other form of exercise, coupled with constant surveillance and an attitude that clearly said the prisoner was only humoring her new fellow would only work against their efforts.

Tohei tried to train her when he could, but the exertion often overpowered the frail young woman when he pushed her too far, too fast.

Then there was they day when things turned around.

Azula could remember it quite clearly. It was funny, how sharp her memory really was. The air was clammy and Tohei's face was flushed and excited. Her left forearm was itching, but there was no way she could possibly scratch it. Not until she was freed from her chains. Like usual.

But this day, he came in and sat before her, a good three feet away from the water.

"I want to try something." he said slowly, not meeting her gaze. "But you have to promise... If I help you with this, you can't just..." he finally looked at her, timid. "You can't just run off on me, okay?"

Nerves poked in the prisoner's chest, but somewhere beneath, excitement sparked like flint on steel. Her forearm stopped itching.

She nodded fervently, her eyes watching him with calculated precision. After a long minute of stony silence, he stood up and climbed into the pool, unbelting the face cage. He knelt before her.

"When's the last time you bent, Princess?" he murmured, his words curved with polite solemnity. She watched his face, pretending to think. Inside, the wick of the long since blown out candle twitched, whispering in the cold wind that blew through Azula's heart.

"Years," she finally croaked. He nodded, because he had known that. He was just humoring her curiosity by asking.

"When is the last time you felt fire?"

She didn't answer this time. He knew, and she didn't want to say.

"Years." he finished, nodding again. "But what if you could bend again, Princess? What if I could help you?"

_I can't, _she wanted to say. _I lost my fire. I can't. _But she kept her jaw locked, watching him icily. He swallowed, and stepped out of the water; it made small splashing noises and she wondered how he would explain his soaking boots to the fellow guards. Her eyes watched him like a dragon-hawk watches an elephant-mouse. Like prey.

She surveyed his movements, wincing in terror as he held his left hand out to her. Her heart hammered. What would happen? He was going to firebend, right there, right in front of her, and something was going to happen.

Presumably. Azula was suddenly wracked with the horror that _nothing _would happen. Maybe her fire really _was _gone, maybe it was too late. Maybe she had gone so long without her bending that she would never do it again-

A tiny orange ball of fire appeared in Tohei's palm, and many things did in fact happen at once.

Specks of light danced around the room, bouncing off the steel walls, glowing in Tohei's eyes. Red and orange and yellow dazed the two. Azula's heart gave a dangerous leap in her chest, powering into overdrive. Her fingertips suddenly blazed, her mouth was slick with saliva, the muscles in her arms flexing and bunching with sudden raw power.

The candle was gone. The wax had melted and dripped away. In its place, she now felt a towering inferno of heat, and a mountain of lava overflowing from her body.

Eyes wide, she grinned up at Tohei, chest heaving. He grinned back in a less mature way. Like a child receiving praise for good work. The sun beet down on her from the sky she couldn't see. Miles under the ground she felt it, blazing, breathing, authoritative and dominant. No wave in the ocean could put out such a fire. No wind could knock it down, no earth could cover it. Fire dominated Azula's mind, her spine prickling with excitement.

"Take off my chains." she hissed at Tohei in her husky voice. The fire left his palm, but did not leave the princess' heart. Not again.

From then on, she decided Tohei could be nothing but good for her. He was genuine in his intentions, and fear was not at the core of their affinity. Maybe it was something like give and take.

And even when Azula got sick of his laid-back attitude, his flattering-but-annoying remarks, and the way his golden eyes watched her every move, she had others around her to occupy her time.

That, too, was funny. The princess had never been one for _groups, _even one like this. She preferred extreme amounts of talent in very small numbers. That always ended in well done jobs and actions carried out with finesse. But Tohei had somehow convinced her of power in numbers; something about an entire world against just the two of them. The words he used made their efforts sound wasted without more fighters with them.

Similar to how all four nations came together to contain her, she now had companions of three bending respects at her command. Her particular favorite- aside from Tohei- was a young, very short girl named Tekki. Small but deadly, they said about her.

She was a head smaller than Azula, with keen blue eyes and dark satin skin. Brown hair covered one side of her face, while the other was shaved nearly bald. The princess didn't understand how this was considered beautiful, even in the Water Tribe, but she held her tongue around the younger girl.

Tekki's mother had been a Northern Water Tribe maiden, who, in attempting to escape her home in search of a freer life, fell madly in love with a Fire Nation soldier in the Earth Kingdom. Tekki was seven when her parents died, and she never would say how. The waterbender _adored _her parents. She said they were trail blazers. And the grudge she held against the Earth Kingdom- for presumably taking her two favorite people away from her- was long time in the makes for settling.

Olev, a stout, thin young earthbender really hated Tekki. She was outspoken, and took nearly every chance she received to talk about her sweet parents, and why the Earth King was a pompous fool. Azula didn't know why Olev was on the team. He didn't seem like the kind to work against his own country. The princes kept an alert eye on him always.

The Kaga Family, or better known as Dazza, Pelu, Sento and Konkon, were also an interesting bunch. Three earthbender's and one firebender made for a sorted family; Dazza was the three brothers' half sister, the youngest of the four. She was reserved and soft-spoken, which contrasted greatly with her brothers' rowdy and playful exchanges. Sento was very protective with his younger sister, which surprised Azula. She always watched him curiously when he took care of his sister. Her older brother had never done anything like that...

Her team's numbers drifted around twenty-two; some only passed through to give their support in the form of gifts; clothes, food or knowledge. Azula especially liked it when they told her about the outside world. Eight months surrounded by nothing but dripping vines, clicking insects and half-naked swamp mongrels had taken its toll on her. It was almost like being imprisoned again. Everything around her was a wall. But from what her scouts and supporters told her, her very name struck fear in the hearts of children.

She liked that. She liked the power that came with it.

She also knew that her older brother's reign was crumbling. What to do without a charming wife? What to say when your economy fails, when your prisoners escape, when your own people don't respect you?

She was also vaguely aware of the Bei Fong scandal. Toph Bei Fong, disloyal daughter to wealthy parents, was the new mother to the son of the Avatar.

The scandal, of course, was that even the girl herself wasn't sure whether or not he was truly the father. Apparently, it had been narrowed down to a married man, a young peasant, and the airbending boy. Everyone involved was embarrassed and shocked. Bei Fong, who had built an addition to her mansion, had sent her guards, servants, chefs, groundskeepers and house guests all away once her child was born.

Azula pretended to understand the distrust, although she new she didn't have the full perspective. She had been known for banishing her help, but for other reasons then protecting her child. At any rate, the vacant state of the home left Toph Bei Fong vulnerable. Probably bedridden, or some other thing brought on by childbirth.

"Finally!" Azula said to herself, pushing out her her swamp-green tent, and into the musty air. "Today is the day."

Tohei was already out, stoking the campfire with an already blackened stick. "Have the years been too long?" he asked kindly. He spoke in a very calm voice, but she could see his eyes glowing. He was just as excited as she was.

"The years have been _years. _We have waited long enough."

"You're ready?" he stood, squaring his shoulders.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Of course, I'm ready," she snapped. "If I wasn't ready, would we be doing this?"

Her voice was curt, but Tohei smiled at her anyways. This was just how she spoke. Warmth was not much of a factor when it came to The Cold Blooded Fire.

Tekki skipped towards the pair of firebender's, her under-wrap barely stretching over her body. The shaved side of her head looked unusually hairy today. Azula wondered if she was going to shave before they left.

"Put some clothes on!" Olev shouted from across the campsite. She swung around to face him angrily, shouting for him to shut up before she stuck her foot in his behind.

"Both of you be quiet." Azula snapped impatiently. "Do you want to attract the swamp-idiots on the biggest day of either of your lives? Tohei, wake everyone up. I want to be there before noon."

"Of course." he replied, hurrying towards the silent tents that surrounded the fire. Azula ducked back inside her tent, and Tekki followed her.

"Olev is an idiot." she said, annoyed. "But, you know, I feel really good about today. Do you have a plan?"

Azula looked at her companion blandly. "No, I completely decided to do this, minus the introduction of a battle plan. Do you ever think when you speak?"

Tekki chuckled. "I guess not. So can I _know_ the plan?"

"Tohei first. Then all of you. You knew that."

"Come on, Azula! I won't tell anyone."

Azula, generally impervious to any form of begging or whining, looked tiredly at the short girl. "Go get Tohei and I'll consider allowing you to stay."

"Right away!" Tekki said happily, skidding out of the tent. "Put some clothes on!" Azula called after her.

The Princess' report with her team was particularly odd to her. They seemed to think she was not only powerful, fear-inducing, smart, and strong but also funny... For some reason. Azula had the same personality as ever. Ty Lee and Mai never laughed when she spoke. They kept silent and close attention, taking everything very seriously.

She liked it much better when her fellows thought she was funny.

Tohei peered in, and she turned around. Their eyes locked for a small moment, one pair warm with recognition, the other quietly pleased at her companion's arrival. They stared for a few long moments, and then she blinked and turned away. Tekki came in after Tohei, wearing a short robe. Her face was alight with excitement.

"Can I stay?" she asked.

Azula sighed. "No. Go assemble the group."

"Azula-"

"Go."

Tekki sighed, annoyed, but left without another word. Azula watched her go, and then turned to Tohei.

"You already know he gist of it." she said. As she spoke she relieved herself of her night clothes, knowing Tohei had the good grace to look away.

He nodded once. "An attack on the Bei Fong Estate. I know that much, but I don't really understand why."

"We're starting small." she said, pulling on a green tunic and long pants. She liked these pants. They covered the hideous scars on her knees. "Toph Bei Fong recently had a child, so she is weak. Today we are enforcing the fact that we are fearless; a merciless force. We will get what we want, no matter who stands in our way."

"Why Bei Fong?" Tohei asked. Azula looked up from pulling on her shoes.

"The Avatar had a gaggle of fellows that allowed him to take my father down. Bei Fong just might be the least important. I told you already that we're starting small."

"Are you going to hunt them down until the Avatar stands alone?"

"Not so directly. But in time, yes. First things first, the Bei Fong Estate. It is currently empty, aside from one woman and one infant,"

Azula dove into a detailed description of her plan, and Tohei watched her reverently, nodding when she looked at him to see if he was keeping up. After eight long months of doing nothing but lingering in a swamp, this was a large step. She was leaving no room for error.

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><p>This plan had been long in the making. She had chosen the swamp for its proximity to the Bei Fong Estate, having just learned, like many others in the Earth Kingdom that the young fool was pregnant. It came into her mind then, the obvious vulnerability of motherhood. It was the perfect break.<p>

With the stream of additions from three bending nations, the plan gained definition. The only possible error would be caused by the team. And they wouldn't dare let her down.

No, any possible flaw created by her manpower would be met with instant, merciless retribution.

It felt like flying, the way she traveled away from the swamp. She clung to Tohei's middle, and he whipped the reins against the back of the eel-hound's neck. Somehow, it gained further speed. How was it possible? This is the fastest Azula had ever gone in her whole life. She rested her cheek against Tohei's back, thinking about the next few hours, and how great it was that she was finally out of that awful swamp.

The animals belonged to a woman named Saba. She farmed them in a small village a few miles out of the swamp. Her parents, who were long-since dead, had been loyal soldiers to Ozai during the war. She hid now, surrounded by her animals, refusing to return to the motherland.

The eel-hound Tohei and Azula were currently astride was named Lazuli. She was three years old. Her arms and legs and tail were long and bright green. And she was so insanely fast Azula's skin was pinned back to her skull. The wind whipped her hair into her eyes, so she was content to close them.

In the darkness of her own mind, she could hear Tohei's heartbeat in her ear. His breathing was rapid, and he seemed very comfortable on Lazuli. She thought of the baby for a moment. The baby who was going to grow up without a mother.

_I did. _Azula thought gently. _He'll be alright, in the end._

Was it just her, or was Lazuli slowing down? Her eyes peeled open, and in the distance, she immediately saw a clutter of white, beige and green buildings.

"We're here." Tohei said over his shoulder to her.

Lazuli slowed further, and Azula slid off her side, landing in a shoulder roll. She began sprinting towards the estate, feeling her strong muscles beneath her. That was something she definitely owed Tohei: her strength.

She could now hear the sounds of pounding feet beside her, and peered sideways to see Tekki, Pelu, and Olev running along with her. The wide wall came into view, and then Tohei was there, on his knee, a jumping-off point.

Her foot in his hand, and then she was launched into the air and over the first wall. Behind her, she heard the sounds of earthbending, closing in the addition where Toph Bei Fong slept with her newborn child. Then she heard Tekki grunt as she reinforced the new wall with ice.

She cleared the second wall and was face-to-face with the outside of the house. Another bending-enclosure sprung up, and Tohei, Tekki, and Olev were beside her. The others were staggered in between the walls, guarding the mission.

"Windows." Azula said in a commanding voice. Tekki summoned water from a nearby turtle-duck pond- they must have been shipped in, the birds were native only to the Fire Nation- and froze the windows around the front of the house solid.

"Do the back."

Tekki disappeared from sight, and minutes later came back around from the other side.

"I'm going in. Tekki and Tohei with me, Olev, reinforce the door."

She entered.

Really, it was a lovely home. Everything was bright, with white-washed walls and light stone floors. There were badger-mole tapestries hanging on the walls every few feet. At the end of the main hallway, there was a blue whale-tooth blade.

"Hello?" a scratchy voice called from down the hall. As she spoke, the high-pitched keen of a baby reverberated down the hall. "Damn it. Mom, if that's you-!"

Azula continued to creep down the hall. She waved at Tekki to stay where she was, continuing alone with Tohei.

"Who's there?" Toph Bei Fong shouted from her bedroom. The baby cried louder. "Shh, shh, its okay." she whispered.

The doorway was nearing. Azula's heart pounded with excitement, but her hand was steady, raised and ready. She took one deep breath and held it there, knowing that if now she hesitated, her plan would fail. _Any possible flaw created by her manpower would be met with instant, merciless retribution._

She stepped into the light of the bedroom, an evil smile twisting her face.

"No, it isn't your mother." she hissed. "Quiet the child."

"Azula." Toph Bei Fong hissed, rising halfway out of her bed.

The princess suddenly gasped. Her hair was long and smooth and shiny and it hung in two parts on her shoulders. A tiny, stuttering mewl escaped Azula's lips.

In her uncertainty, the new mother launched a boulder from the wall at her head. Tohei deflected it with a kick, but she sent another one for his gut. He slammed into the wall behind them.

The baby keened, sending an earsplitting shriek into the air. Toph Bei Fong hesitated, leaning towards the child, and Azula regained herself for a moment. A flaming punch. Stones flying. A mind a million miles away from the mission at hand.

She felt a gripping hand on her wrist, and she was being pulled away by Tohei. Down the hall. Suddenly, into a hole in the ground, a tunnel... There was a clump of shiny black hair in her fist, and she tried to remember ever getting close enough to the Bei Fong girl to pull her hair out. She couldn't. The world was a blur.

Olev pulled her back into the open air, and then she had to run. She had to run, because Toph Bei Fong was furiously hurling rocks at her men, and she was not dead, and _her hair._

Azula tried to explain it to herself. Why she had seized up. It had to have been the maternity-setting. Something more than her hair. But no, the more she thought about it, the more she knew.

And it hollowed her out and put rocks in her lungs and made clinging to Tohei on the back of Lazuli that much easier.

Failure. It washed over her in waves of shame. She did not eat. She did not speak. She went into her tent in the smelly swamp and crouched like she was in chains again. She brought the clump of hair up to her lips, and inhaled. Tohei was in her head, asking if she was ready. Tekki, wondering if she had a plan. Toph Bei Fong, damning it because the baby was crying...

The shining river that rushed from Toph's scalp in the form of black, silken hair had held _striking _resemblance to her mother's. It was almost funny.


	4. House Guest

**I'm so sorry! This chapter is like crazy late. But my computer situation turned rocky... I'll do what I can C:**

**Ooooh, a Zuko chapter!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: House Guest<strong>

Zuko was just about to give in, honor be damned. He was about to throw in the towel, cut his losses, and hang himself in his closet. He was just about to poison his own dinner when the news came in.

Really, he shouldn't have been so surprised. Something was bound to happen sooner or later.

"I want soldiers scouting every inch of that land within a hundred mile radius!" he screamed at Yoru, Pao the Prison Guards latest replacement. Since the old man skipped town, the Fire Lord had been unable to find any sort of decent replacement. He was pretty sure Yoru wasn't exactly cut out for the job.

"Sir, the Earth King says-"

"I don't give a single damn what the Earth King says!"

"... So you want to invade...?"

Zuko sighed restlessly. "No, you idiot. Leave."

"Yes sir." the young man squeaked, hastening away.

No one in the entire palace, not Yoru, not his personal servant Shi Liu, not any of the cooks, guards or generals could ever possibly understand how utterly powerless Zuko felt. It was as though he had to acquiesce to anyone's suggestions, like he was no longer the Fire Lord, but a surf who catered to an entire countries demands.

More than anything in the entire world, he missed Mai. His longing for his wife was coupled only with his pure hatred for his younger sister.

How evil could one girl be? How much villainy could be contained in two golden eyes? Why Mai?

All the awful things he had been through over the past two years might have been bearable if she had been there. But she wasn't. And sometimes in the night he would realize he had been staring into her side of the bed for hours, thinking, why have you gone so far from me?

His nation was crumpling. A bankrupt king of a dead nation, that's what he was. People would probably thank the spirits if he killed himself. He glared into nothing, imagining people clapping at the sight of his mangled corpse.

All of it was Azula's fault. He wasn't sure how, but the Fire Nation might have had a chance at healing if she hadn't- hadn't-

"Killed Mai." he murmured to himself. Then he shook his head, clearing it, and turned to his cluttered desk. His entire office, in fact, was a mess. Really it didn't make any sense. He hadn't had any trade agreements or suggestions for new laws in at least four months. The room should have been cob-webbed. But instead, the surface of his desk, the nooks on his bookshelves, and most of the floor were covered in a ridiculous amount of papers.

He skipped awkwardly over to his desk, and sat down, straightening out a clean sheet of parchment.

'Uncle,' he wrote, dipping a fresh quill into jet-black ink.

'She's back. She attacked the Bei Fong Estate, with Toph and her newborn son alone inside. I don't mean to bother you, but I don't know what to do. Honestly, I'm afraid she's going to hurt someone I care about'-

Suddenly, he stopped writing, reading over the last sentence. Without pause, he tore it from his desk and crumpled it into a small, compact ball, throwing it onto one of the piles on the ground.

His second draft wrote,

'Uncle,

Azula struck again, near Guang Li Village. Come as soon as possible.'

Without even signing it, he passed it on to Shi Liu, who smiled at him nervously and left quickly the moment she was dismissed. She was actually a very nice young woman. Maybe the closest thing Zuko had to a friend these days... Or maybe she was just the only one that still smiled at him anymore. Either way, she was still a nice young woman.

Every day after the letter was sent out, he ordered something new to be cleaned, and waited anxiously for some form of reply.

None ever came. His deep-set eyes got narrow and more worried every moment no news came in. Horrible thoughts came to him. What if Azula got Uncle? What if Uncle was angry with him again? What if the letter never sent?

He walked heatedly to the Post-Room. On his way, though, he bumped into Shi Liu, who was twisting something inbetween her thin fingers.

"Oh, Fire Lord Zuko!" she exclaimed, bowing at the waist instantly. He motioned for her to rise. "This just came in, I was about to take it to inspection-"

He snatched it out of her hands, not caring about his unprofessional behaviour.

It was a small draw-string leather bag, and he pushed the sides apart with his thumb and forefinger, dumping the contents into his palm. He should have guessed it, but the small circular tile in the center of his hand still made him smirk. Maybe for the first time in years.

"What is it?" Shi Liu asked, trying to tip-toe to get a better view. The Fire Lord didn't respond, instead curling his fingers around the White Lotus gambit in his palm. Sudden elation inflated his chest, and his eyesight got a small bit hazy.

What an odd reaction! he thought. But he was smiling, and his heart felt electrified in a small way. He had realized, almost as soon as the message from his Uncle had landed in his hand, that this was the first contact with any of his family-by blood or friendship- since nearly two years before.

It was oddly exhilarating.

"Fire Lord Zuko?" Shi Liu asked, shattering his small epiphany. He looked up at her, down to the tile, and back again twice. "Er, it means my Uncle will be here, probably in a days time. Please prepare his old quarters."

Shi Liu smiled timidly at him, nodded, and said "I'll tell Tei Il."

Wiping the smile from his features, he nodded professionally and turned away from the young woman, stalking back to his office with the pride of a jungle cat.

* * *

><p>"He's still not here?" Zuko snapped at a young man who worked at the front gate. The sir shook his head quickly, and jogged away when Zuko dismissed him. The Fire Lord started pacing, imagining all the awful things that could have happened to his Uncle over the past four days.<p>

What if Azula got to him before he could set out? What if the tile hadn't meant anything? What if Iroh hadn't planned on coming at all? What if he couldn't find a mode of transportation? Oh, if only Zuko had had any money! He could have sent a ship to retrieve the older man-

He shook his head, and began half-running half-walking to the front gate. He passed right by the young man from before, who was currently wide eyed and staring at the sky. Zuko, not surprised because very few people ever met his eyes, continued through the front gate.

"Sir, wait-"

The young man went ignored. Three steps into the open, Zuko heard a massive roar from above, and he realized the young man hadn't been avoiding his eye.

He had been precariously staring at the massive, furry monster who swirled in mid-air. There was yelling from atop him. And then, suddenly, it hurtled towards the earth. Zuko leaped back as Appa's two front legs crashed into the ground, uprooting the fine lawn and sending stray turtle-ducks flying in every direction. There was a keening laugh from the beasts head.

The Fire Lord, knocked on his behind from the impact, stood immediately, brushing the dirt off the seat of his robes. "A-Aang?" he stammered, shocked. What on earth was possibly going on?

"Zuko!" the young Avatar cried, leaping into the air in an impossibly high looking arc. He landed on his feet before the Fire Lord, face impeccably young and cheerful. It seemed completely alien to Zuko, all the happiness in the younger mans face. Maybe it was just odd; the last place Zuko had seen all his companions was at his wife's funeral. He hadn't seen any faces. Only felt despair, and known it was reflected in the visage of all his friends.

"What-what are you doing here?" the Fire Lord asked slowly as Aang pulled him into a hug. It was awkward, only because Zuko took a long moment to return the embrace. For just a second, he was wrapped in Aang's arms, and his hung limply at his sides.

"Your Uncle said you wanted us to come, since what happened to Toph and Kidao. You did, didn't you?"

"Oh, er, yes, of course." Behind Aang, Zuko watched in awe as Sokka took Tophs hand and carefully helped her off the bison. Katara slid down with a small bundle in her arms; she quickly returned the child to its blind mother. Then the Water Tribe man helped his own wife and two children off the bison's back.

Finally, Zuko saw, his Uncle began struggling off the animal. The Fire Lord ran to his aid, and reached him at the exact moment as the young waterbender.

"Katara." he said, a little breathlessly.

"Zuko!" she said, smiling at him. "You look" she was struggling for a compliment, but apparently couldn't find one. "... Tired."

He snorted. "Well, you look well rested, so I suppose we're at an impasse." he said curtly. She smiled again, and they both reached up, each taking one of Iroh's hands and slowly lifting him down.

The old man pulled Zuko into a crushing hug.

"My nephew." he said happily. He looked very frail, but the hug was so powerful Zuko's lungs hammered harder than before. There was no way possible for him to explain how very much he had missed his Uncle.

"I'm so glad I invited everyone." he suddenly said, smiling into his Uncle's shoulder.

"Ah, well, yes, I supposed it was about time for a gathering."

"You supposed right!" Aang suddenly chirped. "How long has it been since we've all been together?"

"Two years." Zuko said suddenly, emotionlessly, as he straightened back up. Everyone, suddenly uncomfortable, looked in different directions. Thankfully, the young Gate-Watchmen scurried forward, bowing to all the guests, and then to the Fire Lord.

"Sir, do your guests have and luggage that needs transportation inside?"

"Yes. I'm sure we have space to accommodate everyone separately?"

"Yes-"

"Separately?" Aang asked. He was looking at Toph from the corner of his eye, but she was far too preoccupied with the child in her arms. "Um,"

"Oh, of course." Zuko said, mind alight, thinking of the Bei Fong scandal. How it must have been true. "Shared rooms for any pairs, and Suki, would you prefer separate rooms for the children?"

It ended up taking the better part of an hour to get everybody in the right rooms with the right people, not to mention finding a large enough area for Appa and Momo to stay. Finally, Zuko found himself alone with his Uncle, and they walked side by side in the courtyard; the Fire Lord keeping slow but steady pace with the elderly man. Turtle-ducks hopped from pond to pond, and pink-blossomed cherry trees perfumed the air. It was a serene afternoon.

"How's the Jasmine Dragon?" he asked, truly curious. He hadn't heard any news of the tea shop in a long, long time.

"I had to change the name recently, but otherwise, we are all flourishing."

"Why did you have to change the-" he broke off, suddenly sure of the answer. The Jasmine Dragon, run by the Dragon of the West, blood relative of the Cold Blooded Dragon. It can't have been any good for business. Instead, Zuko asked, "Whats it called now?"

The old man chuckled and peered up at his nephew with slightly milky eyes. "The Tea Weavel."

Zuko huffed, laughing internally. "Really? Well, I guess it does create a family friendly environment."

His Uncle chortled again, clapping Zuko. Silence filled the air between them, and Zuko faced straight ahead while his true father searched his face. After a long minute he said, "Lady Katara was right."

"Hm?" he said indifferently.

"You look very tired. Zuko, a man-"

"Needs his rest. I know, Uncle." He didn't want to admit that there wasn't any real reason for his lack of sleep. He didn't have anything to fill his days anymore: no trades with other countries, no friends to write, no wife to be enamored with. All he had were his grudges and his losses. And those were what kept him awake in his lonely bed. Not paperwork or regional disputes. Just sadness.

Sometimes he liked to imagine Mai was hiding in the hall, and if he peaked out the door, she would be there, and she would tell him it had all been some awful joke she had put together. Maybe, if he waited long enough, she would come out of the bathroom in her nightgown, belly round with their baby, smelling of the sweet candles she always lit before bed.

But every night he waited, staring at the bedroom door, the bathroom mirror, and always the same image reflected back to him. A sad man alone on a cold bed.

He couldn't share any of this with his Uncle. He couldn't ever possibly articulate these desires. They were his business alone, and he was content with that.

His Uncle, a hunched old man of seventy-four, wearing pale green robes that dragged on the ground below them, sighed, and took his nephew's arm in his own. "I've missed you, Zuko. You never write me anymore."

The Fire Lord didn't know what to say to that either, mostly because it was the truth. Suddenly, Zuko was afraid of what his Uncle must think about the state of the Fire Nation.

"I've made a mess of your country." the younger man murmured suddenly, closing his walking came to a halt, and Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. "I've poisoned a healthy nation with my self-pity."

"Zuko, I'm not going to tell you the Fire Nation is in perfect shape. Or even that it's in good shape. But its not all your fault."

Oh, very helpful, he thought bitterly.

"Zuko, all I can do is give you advice. You have to choose for yourself whether or not you follow it."

Sigh. "I know Uncle. But what can you say to help me now? The Fire Nation has been nearly completely inactive for two years."

"Perhaps you can take a chapter from your fathers book."

"What?" Zuko opened his eyes, staring in incredulity at his Uncle. He must have heard him wrong. He really did not just say to follow in his fathers footsteps.

"Listen, Zuko. What did he call himself? What did he want his legacy to be?"

"He wanted to rule the world after he burned everything to ashes." Zuko snapped, his lip curling angrily.

"Yes. But what did he call himself? What did he want to be?"

"The Phoenix King-"

"Yes. The Phoenix King. The Phoenix, the mystical bird who, even after burning to a pile of ashes, comes back, stronger and more glorious than before. What are you now, Zuko?"

The Fire Lord sighed, understanding but still aggravated. "Little more than a pile of ashes, Uncle."

"Correct. If you were a Phoenix, what would you do next? After your dormancy?"

"Come back."

"Come back how?"

"Stronger and more glorious than before. But Uncle, I don't even know how I would start."

"What do you build on when the ground has collapsed beneath you? You build a new ground, Zuko. You can do it. You are strong. Even if you can't see it now." Iroh took Zuko's arm again, and they walked back up to the Palace in silence.

That evening, Zuko arranged for a feast. Each guest was accorded their own servant to call them to the east wing, where the feasting hall was found, above the underground kitchen. Farther below were the servant and guards quarters, so oftentimes personnel were seen flitting in and out of hidden panel-doors in the walls.

Before Ozai's rule, the servants hadn't been forced to sneak around like rats, darting through holes in the walls. They didn't live levels and levels under the ground, they had their own apartments, just off the grounds. They were respected, if only in small ways.

But Ozai had thought of his workers as nothing more than that: vermin. It was a wonder he allowed them to prepare his food.

The current Fire Lord sat cross-legged at the head of the table, nodding at every servant who passed him, trying to convey his appreciation. As the Fire Lord, Zuko wasn't supposed to be particularly chummy with those who worked for him. He was supposed to be professional, somewhere between kind and Ozai-esque. He had been trained, days after his coronation, on the proper etiquette of being Fire Nation royalty. Of course, he had learned it all as a child by watching his parents, but apparently his time with Uncle had made him soft.

So, no thanking the servants. All he allowed himself was nodding at them.

But as his guests began arriving around the table, they thanked their attendants; Aang even shook his young woman's hand. She bustled away, looking nervous but happy, her eyes flicking to Zuko's after a moment.

He nodded once before she looked away.

Iroh sat to Zuko's right, and across from the old man was Katara, looking rather put out. She was sitting where Mai would have sat, had she been there. Sokka sat next to her, across from Suki. Beside Sokka was Toph, her face red and angry. Aang was next to her, and it looked like he was trying to calm her down about something. Across from the Avatar and the blind woman were Sokka's children, Sukya and Hak (as everyone called the young boy; Zuko was unsure whether or not this was his full name). Sukya, a young girl of five years old, had sparkling blue eyes and light brown hair. Hak was much darker than his sister, and he was only three. From what Zuko could tell, the thing he liked to do most was shove his entire small hand in his mouth and then touch things.

Sokka was deep in conversation with his wife when Toph stood suddenly and stomped away, eyebrows angled furiously.

"What's her problem?" the Water Tribe Warrior asked, watching her leave.

"She thinks Kidao is crying." Aang sighed, before getting up and following her. To his surprise, Katara huffed a this. It made sense, the Fire Lord supposed. Hadn't she been with the Avatar before he was with the earthbending teacher?

Katara hadn't ever been mentioned when Zuko heard about the Bei Fong Scandal, but he wondered for the first time if she should have been.

"You're staring," Uncle said in a sing-song voice. His nudging voice. Zuko cleared his throat, and saw that Katara was looking at him, puzzled. The Fire Lord could suddenly remember how easy it was to get impatient with his Uncle.

"Forgive my nephew," Iroh said. "He has never been particularly suave around beautiful women-"

"Uncle-" Zuko said in a warning tone. Katara was blushing and looking down at the table.

The Fire Lord sighed, his embarrassed face turning away from the table at the red tapestries on the walls. The Dining Hall was a cavernous room that always looked orange. The swirling, spitting dragons on the walls looked as though they were dancing; Zuko remembered spinning in this room as a child, trying to copy the movements shown on the walls.

He sat at the the elevated head of the table, and on the wall behind him was an enormous flame design that embellished him in red reflections.

It was a room set aside for purely formal events; this room branched off into a ball room that always went unused. Everyone was dressed for the evening, though; flowing green gowns, one blue. A hanging curtain of orange robes. A blue and white outfit that was made formal by the removal of a work belt. The Fire Lord himself was wearing a heavy layered mantle and full length royal silk robes. He never wore this. Usually he opted for simple pants and a tunic. But today, he had guests to impress.

The first course was being served when Toph and Aang returned, her face red, as though she had been crying. Zuko had never seen Top cry. He wondered what was wrong.

"Whats the matter, My Lady?" Uncle asked, having been watching them just as Zuko had.

"Nothing," she snapped, breaking a piece of bread and shoving it in her mouth. Her elbow bumped Sokka's, and she turned her whole body away from him. How odd. The Fire Lord tried to remember whether or not Sokka and Toph had gotten along back in the old days.

Aang was fully absorbed with Toph; his young eyes flitting between Sokka and the new mother every few seconds. Sokka moved awkwardly around Toph, keeping his eyes on Suki every second. Katara was pretending not to notice it all, although there was an annoyed look in her eye.

Zuko cleared his throat, and stood. "Well," he began "as you all know, Azula struck again for the first time in almost exactly ten years."

Everyone's eyes-seeing or not- were on Zuko now. He picked at his color, a little uncomfortable, before his eyes saught the fearless monsters depicted on the walls. They didn't choke up when speaking publicly.

"Toph." he said. Her red face, which was slowly turning pink, crunched up in his direction. "Tell us all what happened."

She stood, facing only Zuko, her sightless eyes seemingly looking at him. "I was in bed with Kidao. He was only two weeks old, then, and he was already so small... And I felt someone inside the house. I thought it might be my mom, since she's always bothering me, but..."

"But?"

"But it wasn't. It was Azula, and some man."

" Man! Man man man! " Hak yelled, splashing in his soup.

"The medic?" Iroh suddenly asked. "The one who let her free? What was his name again, nephew?"

"Tohei. There aren't many records on him. Only that he grew up in Yu Dao."

"Surname?"

"None that I could find."

"Hmm... Please go on, Lady Bei Fong."

" FONG! " Hak yelled.

Toph snorted, crossing her arms. Aang and Sokka both smirked simultaneously in an Oh, Toph, kind of way. But Sokka looked down a second later.

"Well, she jumped into my bedroom and told me to quiet the child. Yeah. I'm just gonna snap my fingers and the frightened newborn will be quiet." her voice was bitter. "But anyways, she froze up for a second, so I tried to get her. Her body guard saved her. I hit him, and then the brat pulled the hair out of my head. I thought she was a prodigy! Did she really have to resort to hair-pulling? So I get them the crap out of my house."

"How?"

"Well, they must have an earthbender, because she fell into this hole and came back up on my lawn. But I ran them off."

She froze up? That didn't click. "She froze up? What do you mean, froze up?"

"I mean she stopped moving and breathing for about ten seconds."

"Why?"

"How should I know?"

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. "Anything else?"

"Nope."

"Thank you, Toph."

She plopped back down, crossing her arms. Zuko squared his shoulders and said, to everyone, "Now that Azula is known to be in action, we all have to be on guard. She is supposedly in the Southern Earth Kingdom, but if reports are true, she has numbers and seed on her side. There's no telling what she will do next."

"What do we do?" Aang asked, rubbing Toph's arm. Katara made a small noise in the back of her throat. She looked positively bored.

"Um..." Zuko cleared his throat, her blue blank stare distracting him. "You are all welcome to stay here for as long as you like, and I am going to consult the Earth King on sending some troops to scout areas Azula has been known to be in. Until then, all we can do is... Is wait."

"Wait?" this was Suki. "Wait for what? For her to attack someone else!"

"Waaaaaaaaait!" Hak sang, finally tipping his soup bowl over. Sukya laughed at him happily, picking noodles from his lap and placing them on his head. They both erupted in tinkling giggles, and Suki sighed, standing up. "I'm so sorry Zuko. Here, I'll just-"

"Of course," he said politely, his gaze zeroing in on the mess the children had made. Zuko decided then that he didn't like children.

Suki hitched Hak up on her hip, and Sokka got up to take Sukya's hand. "No," Suki said. "I expect a full report later."

"Yes ma'am," he said, smiling; they kissed briefly. Suki apologized to every servant she passed on her way out.

The kids gone, and the mess being cleaned up, the second course began to be served. Katara was finally looking alive again.

"Are these... Sea Prunes?" she asked, smiling. Zuko shrugged.

"I acquired a taste for them years ago; I was hoping they would be familiar to you-"

"Familiar!" Sokka exclaimed. He began horking down the boiled, bitter fruit, while Aang made an uncomfortable face and offered his share to Toph.

"Oh, grow up." Katara said under her breath, pointedly glaring at Aang. This made Zuko smirk.

Silence fell while everybody ate. Conversation began again as Sokka finished his second helping.

"You know, Suki's right," Katara said, swallowing. "I don't think we should just wait around. That could be another two years."

Zuko was shaking his head. "I don't think so. I think attacking the Bei Fong estate was something of an... Ignition. Somethings begun."

"Something like what?" Toph asked.

"I'm not sure. But I don't think she'll be hiding anymore."

"I agree, nephew." Iroh said. "I believe her most recent assault was just a test. A test she very obviously failed" he nodded to Toph "but a test nonetheless. This wasn't about revenge. It was about trying her power."

"Well, if that's all the power she's got, then I'm not too worried."

"Ah, but don't be cocky, Lady Bei Fong. This is the same woman who-"

"Cracked like an egg when Katara splashed her with a little water?"

Something snapped in Katara's hands at this. "I didn't just splash-"

"Was I talking to you?"

"I-"

" Ladies!" Zuko yelled, standing again. "Please!"

They both snorted, turning away from each other. Katara slammed her broken chopstick down on the table. Sokka looked uncomfortable to be in the middle.

Iroh cleared his throat, acting as though nothing had happened. "Ah, Azula was defeated in the past. But remember, that was ten years ago. She has had time to grow strong."

"I could take her." Toph said quietly.

Iroh sighed. "You said yourself the princess was distracted. With her full faculties, with masses of bender's on her side, could you have handled the situation alone?"

"Yes." she muttered; Iroh's old ears missed it, though. "So, I say we should all be prepared for another attack. She is most likely out for revenge, and like her father before her, she will stop at nothing."

"She isn't going to hurt civilians." Zuko said. "She wants us." She wants me.

Iroh nodded. "I agree. I believe we should all stay here, at the palace, until Azula is taken down."

Silence fell. No one objected.

The next four courses went on with only little conversation. Toph turned in first, murmuring about Kidao and how it was late. Aang followed soon after, and Sokka, who was bursting at the seams with all six courses, waddled off, leaving Iroh, Katara and Zuko.

The woman sighed. "I'm sorry Toph and I argued, Zuko." she said. He looked up at her, realizing the whole night her eyes had either been blank or annoyed. Now, they looked oddly genuine.

And she had called him Zuko. His name. His name, Zuko. All day he had either been called my nephew, or your highness, or Fire Lord, or some other silly thing they all insisted on callng him. As though he were special.

No one ever really just called him Zuko.

"Its alright, Katara." he said slowly. "I hadn't realized how... High the tension was between everyone."

"Its been a long two years." she said, nodding. "A lot has happened." she rested her hand on his shoulder for a second, and then she turned away, her blue gown trailing out behind her.

Iroh smiled, his eyes closed. "She is a lovely young woman." he drawled.

"She's always been very kind."

"Mmm, yes,"

Two young woman escorted Iroh back to his room, but Zuko, knowing it was far too early to go to bed, so he wandered the halls, noting how very dust-free everything suddenly was. After a long while of this- maybe half an hour- something down the polished, red-tile hallway caught Zuko's eye.

Tiny-looking Toph in her pale white gown was facing upward, her sightless eyes turned towards a much larger, blue-clad Sokka. In her arms was the small sleeping bundle that never seemed to leave her hip, her four-week-old son, Kidao.

While Zuko watched, Sokka took the baby from the mother's arms, raised him into the air, and then brought him into a cradling hug. Toph's face was calm, unlike how she had acted at dinner. The man bounced with the babies cheek on his chest. Zuko wondered what this meant. It was most definitely a jump, assuming Sokka could possibly ever be the married man in the Bei Fong Scandal, but before Zuko's eyes, Toph leaned up on her tip-toes and kissed the large man on the face.

After another long moment of Sokka nestling the child in his arms, Toph extended her arms expectantly. The man deflated, his face looking very sad as he gave the child back to its mother.

Zuko, partially disgusted, turned away, stomping angrily down the hall. Sokka was a full year younger than the Fire Lord and he had already fathered two children with his wife, and maybe even one on the side. Zuko- loyal, passionate, even sometimes loving Zuko- was twenty-six, and he wasn't even married, nonetheless a father-

The firebender pulled up short, his throat suddenly closing. He wasn't thinking anything specific; just images of Mai doing various things flashed through his mind erratically. A squirt of cherry-blossom perfume on her wrist, a sheet that needed straightening. The swish of her robe as she side-stepped a corner, the tiniest tear on their wedding day-

It was crippling. He realized he hadn't thought about his wife at all over dinner. What a disgrace he was to his family name-

"Zuko?" a voice chirped from behind him. He straightened up, realizing he had been bowled over, clutching his knees for support. Katara was behind him, eyes full of annoyance that was suddenly coated by worry.

"Are you alright?" she asked, rushing to his side. He shrugged away from her contact, and raised his chin superiorly.

"I'm fine, thank you."

"... You're crying."

Zuko turned his face away very quickly, and tried to stealthily and subtly wipe the backstabbing moisture from his cheeks. To his annoyance, Katara chuckled.

"Its okay to cry," she said softly, trying to touch his arm. He stepped away from her again, his teeth grinding. "I know you've been through a lot."

He snorted and turned on her, his fury peaking. "Is there something I can help you with?" he snarled, his nose almost touching hers.

The annoyance in her expression returned, and she stepped back, putting her hands on her hips.

"Its not my fault you were having a breakdown in a hall I just so happened to be walking down! You don't have to keep everyone out, Zuko!"

He huffed and whipped around, stomping away from the infuriating Water Tribe woman. Her blue eyes pierced him all the way down the hallway.

"We're on your side!" she shrieked after him. He paused, his throat tightening. He was suddenly brought back to a moment from his adolescence: the Northern Water Tribe wasn't that great- at least not great enough to have swam through freezing underwater currents- and a certain young waterbender was making the trip that much worse.

Really, why did she always try to fight him? He was going to get the Avatar sooner or later. Some little girl wasn't going to stop him. Stubborn. She was stubborn.

He turned around, and she was behind him, her pink lips parted slightly in an unsure way. But in her eyes was the same fire he'd seen any time they'd ever battled together, whether it be side by side or otherwise.

Blue fire. It quavered and rolled.

Sighing, thinking of Azula in a small, odd way, Zuko rearranged his face into an emotionless mask. "I know you are, Katara." he said softly. "Thank you."

With that, he turned and left.

* * *

><p><strong>WOOO! Does anyone smell... Zutara...? :D <strong>

**Reviews put band-aids on the scraped knees of today's youth.**


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